The Lace Maker
By Ciara Cahill, 2nd year.
The young girl sits in the corner,
Diligently working at her complex lace.
The convent is quiet,
All around women and young girls work,
Under the steely gaze of a nun.
The girl’s mind drifts,
To the person who will buy her lace collar.
Maybe a wealthy lady in America,
Or perhaps Queen Victoria,
Who knows, the Pope might like it.
The young girl doesn’t care,
It is the last lace net she shall ever make.
She has finally saved enough of her wages,
And is ready to cross the Atlantic,
Without lace nets holding her down.
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